Authors: Julia Alvarez
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Emigration & Immigration, #People & Places, #United States, #Hispanic & Latino, #Friendship
Once my sisters had left, I walked toward Tyler, who just watched me, no smile or greeting. His face reminded me of the black holes in outer space he has told me about that just swallow stuff up. I slowed my steps as I got close, afraid I would disappear forever inside his frown. I wondered if maybe Tyler was falling ill again with the malady that his sister mentioned was the reason he had been sent away over the summer.
“Tyler, can we do a star lesson after supper?” Several nights in the attic of the barn we had looked through his telescope at the stars.
“Nah, not tonight. It's gonna cloud up,” he said in a voice that was almost as unfriendly as the first time I met him.
I looked over his shoulder at the clear evening sky. He was not giving me the real reason. But then, I wasn't asking him the real question I wanted to ask him. I pushed myself to be bold and brave. “Are you my friend?” I asked in a trembly voice that was the opposite of brave and bold.
Tyler just shrugged, which I knew meant he
wasn't sure anymore. I felt a black hole where my heart used to be. “It's because of what the boys said on the bus, right?” I was acting as nosy as my sister Ofie.
It took him a moment to look up. In his blue eyes I saw little pieces of the beautiful blue summer sky that was now gone until next year. “Just tell me one thing, okay? Do you have the documents my dad said Mexicans have to have to work here?”
Mr. President, I could not tell a lie, just like another of the presidents who went before you, Mr. George Washington, after he cut down the cherry tree. I told Tyler the truth. And then I added many of the things I am writing in this letter. That it was not my fault that I was here. That my parents brought me to this country when I was four years old. That I didn't have a vote like you do in a democracy.
He was quiet for a while before he spoke up. “I know it's not your fault, Mari,” he began. “I know that if your dad and uncles hadn't come, we wouldn't be able to stay on the farm. But still”— Tyler's voice suddenly sounded like he was going to cry—”I'd rather lose the farm than not be loyal to my country.
“I'm sorry,” he added because tears had come to my eyes. “I'm sorry because I really like your family.” And then he walked away.
There have been a lot of sad moments in this country, but that moment of a new friend walking away was one of the saddest.
That is why I am writing you, Mr. President. I can't share my sadness with anyone else, because if I tell Papá about the boys on the bus, I am almost sure he will pull us out of school.
I also know you can't even write me back as I can't give you my full name and address. Please believe me, Mr. President, that I would if I could. I just don't want to worry anyone. That is why I am not telling my father that Mr. B. is planning to mail this letter. Mr. B. explained that without last names or an address, I won't get anybody in trouble. He is the one who says that you need to know what is going on in your country. How even kids who would otherwise be friends have to turn away from each other.
Tonight at midnight, Mr. President, when it turns into the 16th of September, it will be our Fourth of July in Mexico. It is the date when our country first became independent. And guess how the revolution started. A priest rang the bell to wake up all the citizens to freedom. So now, every 15th of September at midnight, our president in Mexico comes out on his balcony overlooking the huge square in our capital, full of hundreds and thousands of people like we have seen on the television for the New Year's Eve in New York
City. All over Mexico, people are waiting for the sound of liberty.
At the stroke of midnight, our president rings that original bell that has been carried to his balcony for this special night. Then he cries out
“¡Viva México!”
which means “Long live Mexico!” The crowd cries back
“¡Viva!”
Then the president says it again and again, three times in all, and the people cry back, each time louder,
“¡Viva!”
Tonight, Mr. President, I am going to stay up until it is midnight. Then I will tiptoe through the trailer and come outside and lift my arms just above my shoulders to find the North Star the way Tyler has taught me to find it. I will turn in the opposite direction, facing toward my homeland.
“¡Viva México!”
I will cry out in my heart. Three times,
“¡Viva México! ¡Viva México! ¡Viva México!”
But because, as Mr. B. says, we are all citizens of one planet, indivisible with liberty and justice for all, I will also turn toward where you live in your beautiful white house, Mr. President.
“¡Viva los Estados Unidos del Mundo!”
I will cry out to myself. “Long live the United States of the World!
¡Viva! ¡Viva! ¡Viva!”
Very respectfully yours,
María Dolores
WATCHED-OVER FARM
Sometimes when Tyler is looking up at the night sky, he thinks he sees his grandfather's face. It doesn't always hap-pen because his mind automatically wants to connect the dots into a constellation, but sometimes if he stares long enough, a star will wink. Or a shooting star will go by. Or a meteor shower. Gramps! It gives Tyler a brief warm feeling to think his grandfather might indeed be watching over him.
If he mentions these visitations to his mom, there might be another trip down to Boston to visit Aunt Roxie and Uncle Tony. Actually, it's almost Halloween, which is one of Party Animals’ busiest times of year. So Tyler will probably not be sent anywhere but to the counselor at Bridgeport. Tyler doesn't even want to imagine what Ronnie and Clay-ton will do with that piece of information. Looney Tunes Tyler, he can already hear them chanting.
It still hurts not to have Gramps around. Everything on the farm, from Ben's daily absence to the silence in the barn now that the swallows are gone, to the rolling pastures covered in frost and mist in the early mornings, to the bright stars that seem to grow brighter as the cold sets in— everything feels doubly empty without him. But no one, ex-cept Grandma, wants to talk about missing Gramps. The best way to get over his grandfather's death is not to dwell on it, Tyler's mother has told him.
But Tyler doesn't want to get over Gramps's death. For-getting about his death means also forgetting about his life, and then Gramps would really be dead. On the other hand, Tyler doesn't want to upset Grandma, and at any little mention of Gramps, she melts into tears. There's got to be a hap-pier way to stay in touch with Gramps. And the stars are the closest Tyler has come, even though they are millions of light-years away.
It makes sense that his grandfather would want to com-municate using stars. After all, Tyler's grandfather was never a big talker. It's amazing how much he taught Tyler without a whole lot of explaining, stuff about farming and fishing and finding your way using the stars. Last Christmas, it was Gramps who gave Tyler a telescope. On the gift tag, he'd written some words that Tyler now treasures:
Anytime you
feel lost, look up.
So many times this summer and fall Tyler has done just that!
As for the telescope, Tyler has moved it back to his bedroom, since it's getting too chilly to be stargazing from the barn loft. But that's not the only reason. Moving the tele-scope lets Tyler off the hook. He doesn't have to feel bad about not inviting Mari over to watch the stars. In fact, she never asks anymore about the next stargazing lesson. Her fa-ther is super- strict, and if it's not okay for a girl to be with a boy in a barn with two hundred cows and two uncles plus her father going in and out, then it's definitely not okay to be alone with a boy in his bedroom at night.
Tyler knows it's not Mari's fault that her parents snuck her into this country. He doesn't like being mean to her, but he also doesn't want to be friends with someone who is breaking the law, even though that law, according to his dad, needs changing.
In school, he can't avoid her since they are in the same class. But in the morning at the farm, when they board the bus together, it's trickier. A few times Mari has headed to where Tyler is sitting, but then there's a little hesitation, and she goes and sits with her sister Ofie and sometimes with Meredith and Maya, some classmates who have sort of made María their project. These are the same girls who are most active in Earthlings, the new club Mr. Bicknell has started for saving the planet.
But Tyler has to admit that watching the stars by himself makes him miss Gramps even more. Especially now that Tyler feels so confused about how his parents are maybe breaking the law. He can't talk to Mom, who would just lecture about freedom and justice and liberty for all, and Dad would feel bad that he can't do all the work himself, and Ben is never around anymore, and Sara is a blabbermouth, and Grandma would get upset that Gramps can't help out because he's dead. That covers all the adults in his family, and Tyler wouldn't dare mention what's going on to anyone who isn't related. As it is, he thinks the farm is already being watched by Homeland Security. Recently, someone has been calling, then hanging up when Tyler or Sara or Mom answers. Sara is sure it's her ex- boyfriend checking to see if she's home.
“Stop being a pest, Jake!” she sometimes hollers into the phone, and Mom has to remind her of her phone manners.
“But he's being rude.”
“Two rudes don't make a right,” Mom says. “Besides, I think it's someone trying to reach the Cruzes.” Even though the Mexicans have their very own phone in the trailer, the only number they had when they moved from North Carolina was the Paquettes’. “I just wish whoever it is wouldn't hang up so I could give them the right number.” A lot of times now, Mom just lets the call go to the answering machine, where callers are cheerily invited to leave a message and have a nice day. Sometimes, Tyler will play and replay the blank pause before the hanging up, for clues. But all he can make out in the background is a bunch of static and maybe the sound of traffic on a freeway. Meanwhile, his dad is sure the calls are from bill collectors wanting to talk to him. And since Tyler's dad would never think of picking up a ringing phone if anyone else is in the house, there's no way to find out if he's right.
What Tyler is hoping is that his dad will soon be one hundred percent recovered. According to the doctors, Dad is a miracle case. He can now move the fingers on his right hand, and though he still limps, he's getting around much better. Best of all, his sense of humor is slowly coming back. If he keeps improving, Dad will be able to do a lot of the farmwork himself, with help from Corey and some parttimers and Ben on occasional weekends and Tyler whenever he doesn't have to be in school. Then his dad will be able to send the Mexicans away before he gets into trouble.
Tonight, a clear night, Tyler studies the stars, thinking about Gramps. This late, Mars is out, big and bright, the closest it's been to Earth in two years. As he watches, the outside light comes on at the trailer next door. A figure emerges, too small to be one of the men and too tall to be little Luby. It's either Ofie or Mari, but something about the way the shadowy figure moves, not perky and sure of itself, makes him guess it's Mari. Tyler has turned off the lights in his bedroom to see through the telescope better, so when she looks up in the direction of his window, he is almost sure she can't see him watching her. Still, he pulls to one side be-cause suddenly he wants to spy in case she is up to some-thing illegal.
Mari walks up the slight incline behind the trailer to the field where the cows graze. The moon is on the wane, but it's still a pie with half its pieces left, so there is enough light to watch her by. Midfield, she stops and gazes up at the sky, slowly turning west, south, east, full circle. She must be cold, because she pulls up the hood on the parka that Mom got her at Neat Repeats, but it keeps falling when she throws her head back. After several slow circles, she stands very still, looking at something in the night sky. Tyler angles the telescope up, searching for what she might have spotted above the farm. The North Star, the Little Dipper, the Dragon, the Swan. No meteor showers. No fireballs. Nothing unusual.
But then, gathering stardust and moonbeams, a face begins to form. Gramps! He is smiling down … at the girl in the field as if it is someone he is looking after. Clearly, his grandfather thinks it's Tyler behind his house late at night. Tyler wants to call out, Over here, Gramps!
But as Tyler is wondering how to catch his grandfather's attention, the girl in the field lifts her hands as if waving goodbye. Then she turns back to the trailer and Gramps's face disappears from the sky.